


Tidal Wave

by jarpad



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, but knowing me i'll never finish it and i want to share more stuff online, hank is there to help, literally just a vent piece it doesn't link with anything else, no beta we die like men, our boy is a bit overwhelmed, so here u go, this was actually meant to be longer and established convin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarpad/pseuds/jarpad
Summary: Connor is having a difficult day. Hank understands.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	Tidal Wave

Connor hated days like this.

When things just felt that little bit off. When a simple comment or question could send him spiralling into excessive thoughts, or completely overwhelm at any given moment.

It didn’t help when he felt like this on the job. Especially not when his ‘to do’ list was already as large as it was. And now more things were piling on top.

He could feel upset curling in his chest. Lip twisting. Eyes stinging.

It was just…

It was too much. He couldn’t handle it. He had so many things to do, but he didn’t know where to begin or how to prioritise what should come first. Connor couldn’t stop his brain from just looking at _everything_. Every single task. Constantly thinking about how all of these things were important, and that he needed to finish each one of them _now_. But it wasn’t physically possible to do so. And now Connor was perpetually stuck, because his head kept reprioritising the mountain of different tasks when another new factor came to him.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t cope.

He couldn’t pick what task to do first, so now he was just doing nothing. Staring at this huge list of responsibilities, utterly lost. Unmoving. Mulling over the options again and again, then realising he’d been staring at his desk for several long minutes, and having to physically pull himself out of this impasse he had created.

Shit…

Connor wanted to cry.

He could feel that familiar threatening sensation. The wobble of his lower lip. Body wound tightly. Emotions reaching the brim.

So overwhelmed.

Completely.

Connor left his desk wordlessly. He didn’t need his colleagues to see, nor did the android want any eyes on him right now. There was too much input. Left behind the jumbled noise of the bullpen and slipped into the short corridor that lead to the archives stairwell. It was quieter in here. Not silent by any means, but at least it was away from any curious glances. He could breathe in here.

Tried to think about his options again. Which parts to cover first. What was going to be the most efficient use of time?

A minute passed.

Two.

Three.

Connor still didn’t have an answer.

Stood motionless, staring at nothing. Cycling through the same thought processes, over and over and over. _Wasting_ time. The exact opposite of what he wanted to do. Why was he doing this? Why could he just not pick something and do it? Why was he finding it so hard to do _anything_.

He dropped down onto one of the benches and rubbed his eyes. Exhaled shakily. Head in his hands, elbows on knees.

Eyes wet.

Why couldn’t he figure this out?

Why was this happening? He just wanted to do _something_ , but the amount of options were so overwhelming, Connor just couldn’t pick.

What was wrong with him, why couldn’t he do anything why was he being like this why couldn’t he just _decide_ what to _do?_

“Okay, kid?”

The voice startled him. He’d not registered the squeak of the door, or Hank’s approaching footsteps.

“Mm.”

“Sure about that?”

Connor swallowed. He’d still not moved. Not even raised his head to look at the other or greet him, hunched over in a way that had to look pathetic. Connor was being so stupid right now.

“M’just…” He began, then seemed to lose his words half way, lips moving, but no sound coming out.

The bench creaked beside. Hank’s warm presence helped a little. So long as he stayed that distance away.

“Somethin’ I can help with?”

Connor felt his lip twist down. Felt tears springing to his eyes, wiping them away before they grew too uncontrollable.

“S’just… a lot. Right now.”

“The case?”

“That. And… my head. Head’s just… just too much going on, I’m… I…” Connor fumbled over his words, feeling heat rise in his cheeks at his inability to properly speak in this moment.

“Know that feelin’, kid.” Hank said. “You think talkin’ it out will help?”

“I don-don’t know, I’m— I’m—” He sucked in a quick breath, then cursed quietly, “Sorry— I’m being stupid. Can’t even— I can’t even talk.”

“It’s not stupid at all, Connor. Promise.”

Connor nodded. Took some overly slow breaths, trying to stop his mind from racing.

“There’s just— There’s just too much to do and I don’t know where to start because every factor has an equally valid reason for why it should be tackled first and now I’m just stuck and I can’t make a decision and I— I _feel_ —” He halted, voice cracking. Scrubbed away the traitorous tears that had spilled.

“What do you feel?”

“I-I can’t focus, there’s too much— there’s too much and I can’t— I can’t—” An upset sound escaped.

“Breathe, kid. Take a second. Take some breaths… Don’t rush yourself.”

Connor took a careful breath.

Then another.

Another.

“Can I touch you?”

Connor shook his head. Not now. Not now.

“Alright.”

No one spoke for another minute. They just sat in quiet. Breathing.

It wasn’t really fixing things, but it helped a little.

Enough that Connor realised he had another option here. One that was upsetting for an entirely different reason, but it made sense to opt for it. Especially with how he was feeling right now. Because he couldn’t cope. Not today. He’d been teetering on the ledge since this morning, and now everything was starting to crumble. Connor wasn’t being helpful at all, and he was only getting more and more upset as the minutes passed, no matter how many kind words Hank offered.

“I might… I might need to go.”

“Home?”

“Yes. If— If that’s… If you— If you can manage without me.”

“‘Course, kid. You think you’ll be alright at home on your own?”

“…No.” He admitted quietly, finally managing to push himself upright. Taking another deliberate breath and scrubbing a hand down his face. “But, at least I can try to stop focusing on this so much. I’m— I’m not helping anyone by being here right now. Least of all myself. I’m no good to you like this.”

“You’re doin’ just fine, Con… But I see what you’re saying. If home is what you need, then I think it could be a good call. Come back fresh tomorrow.”

Connor nodded. Finally looked to the side, finding Hank watching. Oddly enough, the man was smiling. 

“Proud’a you, kid.” Hank said, eyes crinkling. “Few months back, you’d never have even thought this was an option. You’ve come a long way, Connor. Don’t forget it.”

“Thank you.” 

“Go. Give that sappy dog a hug for me when you get back.”

“Of course. Sumo deserves all of the hugs.”

“You do too, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspiration is from '[Tidal Wave](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ak5Vsk0FNI)' by Tom Misch & Yussef Dayes.


End file.
